


A Force Stronger Than Death

by Manwathiel_Caladwen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Character Death, Declarations Of Love, Gen, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Non-Canonical Character Death, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Deathly Hallows, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 18:55:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11296737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manwathiel_Caladwen/pseuds/Manwathiel_Caladwen
Summary: After the war and Ginny's departure, Harry's life become a matter of hiding from the public and finding a reason to not give up his job as Head Auror. That all changed with with  arrival of a letter, and a meeting of a lifetime that would provide him with his reason to keep going, and prove that there might even be a force stronger than death at work in his life.





	A Force Stronger Than Death

Harry blindly stumbled through the door of his little one room flat in central London and let his cloak fall to the ground behind him. It was dark and rainy outside but he didn't have the energy to hang up his cloak or even cast a drying spell on himself; all Harry wanted to do was sleep. Walking silently through his flat, not caring that he was trailing water everywhere, he peeled off his wet cloths and fell face first onto his unmade bed without even taking his glasses off. He sighed deeply as he let the welcoming arms of sleep fold around him.

That night was a good night for Harry. He didn't have any dreams to remind him of what he thought his life should have been nor did he have any nightmares to remind him of what his life turned out to be. No, that night sleep comforted Harry like an old friend, forgetting the horrors of war, the pain of loss, and the disappointment of failure.

Harry's life wasn't supposed to be like this though; the Chosen One wasn't supposed to spend his nights alone, plagued by memories of war. The Chosen One was supposed to marry Ginny Weasley, have a few children to carry on his legacy, and become the Head Auror who would protect the Wizarding World from harm. Well, Ginny was gone, his legacy was slowly dying, and though he was Head Auror, he spent more time filling in paper work than protecting the world from danger. On this night, however, Harry thought of none of that as he slept.

The next morning, Harry awoke to an insistent tapping noise on his bedroom window. Groaning as he rolled over slowly and straightening his glasses, Harry wondered who in the blazes would be sending out an owl this early on Saturday morning.

Opening the window just enough to let a large eagle owl in, Harry immediately noticed that the letter it was carrying in his beak wasn't from the Ministry nor from Ron and Hermione, as they were usually Harry's only sources of mail. Intrigued, Harry took the envelope while absentmindedly giving the owl a few treats from the jar he kept on his dresser. The envelope, however, held no clues as to who sent the letter, and Harry wracked his brains trying to figure out who else would send him mail as he walked back to his bed.

Not coming up with any ideas, Harry flopped back down and opened the envelope, careful not to rip the front where his name was scrawled elegantly in midnight blue ink. Putting the envelope down, Harry turned the multiple pieces thick parchment over only to see blank pages staring back at him. Harry looked around for his wand before he realized he had left it in his cloak last night. Sighing, Harry put the letter down and went to retrieve his wand before returning to the comfort of his bed. Taping the letter with his wand, the same midnight blue ink and elegant scrawl that was on the envelope filled the pages before him. He began to read:

_Dear Harry,_

_I know you have no idea who I am right now. I will, inevitably, reveal some traits about myself throughout this letter but my true identity will be not be revealed until after you have finished reading this letter. I have written to you at this time to apologies to you for all of the wrong I have committed against you in the past. Yes, I am part of the reason your life turned out the way it has. I am part of the reason that you had to suffer, and I am part of the reason you cannot sleep at night. I am truly sorry._

_Yes, I know that you are unable to sleep; a secret well-kept from the rest of our world. But I know for I too find myself haunted by the past. Our stories begin and end with the same person: just as Lord Voldemort stole your childhood, mine was also stolen, though at the time I did not know it. We were both children with pre-determined destinies, pre-determined personalities. You were always to be the one who our world turned to, regardless if you wanted it or not, that role was yours from the moment your mother died all those years ago. It is position you still carry. And whether or not you knew it, you only cemented that role during your first few years at school. You fulfilled your destiny by defeating the Dark Lord, where I have failed in fulfilling mine. And in this case, I gladly accept failure as an outcome, for my failure allowed for your success at the time. Since then, I am sorry to say that my failure has only increased the pressure placed upon you._

_During my childhood, I was unaware of the role I was expected to play in my later life. I was ignorant, self-indulged in my own little world. Until I met you. The first time I met you I did not know your name. Indeed, it was in that moment that I decided that I wanted to be your friend during our years at school together. When I became aware of whom you were my self-centered world was shattered because I was supposed to hate you. My comfortable life became suddenly less comfortable when I realized that the boy whose piercing stare I could not forget was the one person I was not allowed to associate with. I watched you during our first feast at Hogwarts. Watched as your eyes were opened to all the wonderful things magic could do. I watched as you were Sorted and crushed when we were put in different Houses, further removing any chance we had of having amicable relations. Our years at Hogwarts forced you to endure challenges and trails no one should have to face at such a young age and while I played my part convincingly, while I displayed only hatred and contempt towards you in public, every night I would pray for your safety. Every night I prayed that circumstances would change and I could tell you that I didn't hate you; that I never hated you._

_While you faced challenges in the public eye and dealt with internal struggles, I faced a decision. With the return of the Dark Lord, I knew that those I cared most about where in grave danger. You were suddenly thrust into the position of being the Chosen One, a role I knew only you could fulfill, while my family faced destruction by those they professed to be loyal too. After the death of Dumbledore, my world shattered much as yours did. You lost a mentor, a person who cared a great deal for you. I lost any chance of reaching out to you and of showing you the care I felt for you. When Dumbledore died, my decision was made for me, my destiny set just as yours was. At this point, I had lost all hope. All around me was pain, destruction, and hate that did not have a cause besides the whims of a narcissistic, naïve old man._

_I was in the Great Hall when you destroyed him. I saw his lifeless body fall. I watched as those who loved you surrounded you in celebration. And I watched as you left the Great Hall with your friends, seeking solitude in the wake of all you had done. On that day, you seemed invincible and I wished with all my heart to follow you. To join you in solitude, to stand in solidarity with you and the other members of the Order as the Elder Wand was laid back in its final resting place. I wished with all my heart to attend the funeral of Remus, and Nymphadora, and Fred. And I wished with all my heart to be the one to hold you when you found out Ginevra was not coming back._

_Instead of being the one to comfort you, I was the one that hurt you. I was part of the reason you had to endure hours of trials and interrogation following Lord Voldemort's defeat. I was part of the reason you had to share your memories with the world. I was part of the reason that your private life became public knowledge._

_The obvious questions that needs to be asked is why did I not refuse my destiny, refuse to play a part that I did not want to play? Why, since the end of the war, have I not come forward and told all of this too you in person? The answer to such questions is easy. Love is the reason I could not refuse my destiny. Love is the reason I have never told you these things in the past. My destiny, as I mentioned, forced me to choose between my family and you, and though the love I have for my family played a part in my decision, I also realized that choosing you would put you in grave danger and well as my family. I also realized that choosing to play my part allowed me to help you in ways you will never know and I shall never reveal but it also helped you in one way that you do know of, if you think hard. I also said that love is the reason I have never told you this in the past. And it's true._

_I never told you any of this before because I love you._

_Yes, it is true. I love you. I realised it when you returned from the graveyard with Cedric. It was re-enforced when you fought and lost Sirius at the Ministry. Because I love you, I also realized that you and I could never be. You had a different fate: one that involved a wife and beautiful children. I cannot say if you were in love with Ginevra or not, but I am sorry that you lost her. Because I realized we could never be together, I never told you about my feelings to protect you. During the war, you needed to be surrounded by those who loved you and supported you, and though I could fill that role, I would attract an unnecessary amount of negative attention and hatred towards you. I had to ignore my feelings to protect you. This was a sacrifice I was willing to make._

_Since the war, I had ample opportunity to discuss my feelings with you but once again, I had a decision. One between my happiness and your protection. I chose to protect you from the scrutiny of the public that I would attract. As much as I wanted to believe that I was right for you, I knew that I was not what you needed. I had to protect you from myself._

_Recently, however, I have been wondering if life is not better live with love. A Muggle author by the name of Leo Buscsaglia once said "Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time, it tells us to tell each other right now that we love each other." I have thought of this since it became apparent that both of us attract a danger. I have thought of this ever since the Dark Lord returned and you faced your destiny. I have thought of this ever since I spent a year not knowing where you were and if you were alive. I have thought of this ever since I found out that I was dying._

_I wasn't going to tell you this. I wasn't going to make you bear this burden but I thought you should know that someone loved you. That you meant a great deal to someone. I wanted you to know that love is stronger that death. And I wanted you to know this before it was too late._

_Remaining yours always._

Harry sat in shocked silence, trying to understand everything he had just read. Somebody loved him, somebody he knew. Scanning the letter again, Harry made a few mental notes about who could have possibly written this letter. It was obviously someone in his year at Hogwarts and was not in Gryffindor, the person was in the Great Hall when Voldemort was killed but did not fight with the Order. The list in Harry's mind was getting precariously short. He was so deep in thought that when he heard the loud crack indicating somebody apparated into his flat, he let out a little yell, grabbing his wand to point at the intruder. When no one appeared in his doorway, Harry got up and headed towards the place where the sound originated, moving slowly with his wand at the ready. Arriving in his living room, Harry was surprised to see a small house elf looking shaking nervously.

"Who are you?" asked Harry, lowering his wand.

"Harry Potter, sir, my name is Sophie, sir. I was sent by my Master sir, to bring you to him sir." The elf squeaked out, looking up at Harry with eyes that reminded Harry distinctly of Dobby.

Harry started to reply to the elf before he was cut off by the elf grabbing his hand and leading him towards his room. "Please, Harry Potter sir, we don't have much time. Master is very sick, very sick indeed. We need to get you dressed before Master…" The elf couldn't continue as she was overcome with tears. Harry sensed the urgency in her voice and continued into him room, picking up a pair of jeans a t-shirt on his way to the bathroom.

Once ready, Harry headed back to the living room, where Sophie had sat herself down in front of his door, sobbing quietly into her pillowcase. He picked up his cloak off the floor where he had left it and kneeled down to look at Sophie. Indicating that he was ready to go, Harry grabbed Sophie's hand and with a loud crack, Harry felt the familiar feeling of being sucked into a dark hole that accompanied disapparition.

When his world finally stopped spinning and the dark spots disappeared from his vision, Harry looked up to find himself standing outside what appeared to be an old family estate in the middle of a rolling field. The morning fog had just lifted and Harry could see droplets of dew still clinging to the lawn as he and the elf Sophie made their way towards the front doors of the home. Walking into the entrance hall, Harry was surprised by whom he saw waiting for him. Andromeda Tonks stood waiting at the foot of a large staircase, her arms crossed and foot tapping as if Harry was running late.

When Andromeda spoke, her voice was tense with concern and urgency. "Quick Potter, give your cloak to Sophie, she will look after it for you, and follow me. The last time I checked, it wasn't looking good." And with that, Andromeda turned on her heel and made her way up the stairs, Harry catching up and matching her pace. As they walked, Andromeda spoke again, "I trust you read the letter that was delivered to you home this morning?" Harry nodded and Andromeda continued, "Good. I know you must have questions, and there will be time to answer them later but for now, your presence has been requested. In fact, you are the only person that has been given permission to enter the room."

They had stopped outside a set of beautifully carved oak double doors. Harry went to open the door but before he had the chance, Andromeda placed a hand on his wrist. "Potter….Harry…." she said with a surprising amount of gentleness in her voice, "This is going to be a shock for you; I know it will be, but try to be tactful. This person has suffered greatly and not just from this illness that will soon take their life. They only have a few moments left, so please try not to judge them too harshly." And with that, she released Harry's wrist and turned to leave.

Harry watched her go, wondering who this person was that could make the impossibly tough Andromeda Tonks look so disheartened. Taking a deep breath, Harry turned back to face the door and slowly turned the knob. Pushing the door ajar just enough so that he could slip through, Harry let the door close behind him with a muted thud. The room Harry found himself in was not what he expected of a room housing a dying person. It was large and airy, the windows open and the pale rays of sunlight providing the only light source in the room. It was almost idyllic, thought Harry, though he quickly became aware of the only sound in the room—a raspy, labored breath coming from a large bed located between two full windows.

Harry timidly approached the bed; completely unsure of whom he would find lying there. Closing his eyes, Harry took the last few steps forward and when he opened his eyes his gaze was met by ice blue eyes that could pierce any soul.

"Draco," Harry breathed, "Oh, Draco." Lying there in the bed, wrapped up in layers of blankets, was Draco Malfoy, his usually pale complexion impossibly white, his skin clinging to him like melted wax on a candle. He looked frail and worn; not at all like the Malfoy Harry remembered from Hogwarts.

Draco smiled weakly at Harry, motioning him to come closer. Still in shock, Harry obliged, moving forward and sitting gingerly on the edge of Draco's bed, trying not to disturb the bed too much. Neither man spoke, only stared into the eyes of the other. Harry's mind was racing, thinking back to the letter he had read only hours before. Did Malfoy really mean what he had written? Had he really loved Harry since fourth year? One look into Draco's eyes silenced all of Harry's questions. Yes, Draco really loved him.

"I'm sorry Harry." Draco's voice was hushed but he did not speak with frailty or weakness Harry expected of someone who was dying.

Reaching out, Harry took one of Draco's hands in his own and Harry moved his other hand to smooth Draco's cheek. "Shhh. It's okay Draco. You don't have to explain yourself. Your letter was more than enough explanation for me. We both have faced difficult decisions, and you acted with incredible bravery." Harry let his voice fade away, not knowing what else to say to the man lying before him.

Draco snuggled his cheek closer into Harry's palm, reviling in its softness and warmth. Harry just stared down at Draco, still wondering what twist of fate had brought him to this moment. When Draco spoke again, there was a different edge in his voice; one of authority and power that were only slightly masked by the pain.

"Harry, there is another reason I wanted to see you before I died. A reason I could not write in a letter. You probably don't know this but not long after the war, I married a young witch that my parents had selected for me. Astoria was a beautiful women but I never loved her. I married her out of obligation and we spent much of our time fighting and being miserable. The only good thing that came out of our marriage was our son, Scorpius. Astoria did not survive his birth and I have been raising Scorpius since then." Here Draco paused, drawing a deep breath before continuing, "My parents did not accept my refusal to remarry and as a result, I have not seen them since Astoria's funeral. Andromeda has helped when she can but she has Teddy to raise and I did not know who else to ask."

Draco paused, looking at Harry whose thoughts were swirling. Draco had been married? Draco had a son? Harry could hear his own heartbeat, erratic and quick in his chest. He has a feeling he knew what Draco was about to ask him but he had no clue how he was going to respond.

"Harry, Scorpius means the world to me. He gave me a reason to live, to keep fighting. You are everything a parent should be Harry. You're understanding, smart, kind, brave: everything I want Scorpius to grow up to be. What I am trying to say is that if I named you as Scorpius' godfather, would you raise him for me?"

Silence filled the room once more. Pulling his eyes away from Draco's stare, Harry looked out the window, over the fields and ponds that were visible. Just as Draco was about to start speaking again, to tell Harry that he did not have to take on this responsibility, Harry answered.

"Yes." Looking back at Draco, he could see the ice blue eyes fill with tears as he continued speaking. "Yes, I will raise Scorpius." Harry moved his other had to frame Draco's face, looking straight into his eyes before proceeding, "I will raise Scorpius and do everything in my power to make sure he knows what an amazing person his father was."

The tears that had been building up in both of their eyes finally started to fall. Struggling to get his breath under control, Draco broke into a fit of coughing which wracked his entire frame. Harry moved to help Draco sit up straight and supported him until Draco stopped coughing, and laid back, gasping for breath. Harry reached up to wipe the tear off his own face before moving to wipe Draco's tears away, while Draco lay limp, too tried from the last coughing fit to do anything. As Harry continued to stoke his face, Draco looked up into his eyes.

"Why?"

It was question that Harry had been expecting and one he had an answer for, though he did not know how he had arrived at this conclusion.

"Because I love you." And with that, Harry shifted Draco over in the bed and moved to snuggle next him. Wrapping his arms around Draco's waist, Harry pulled the frail man close, moving one hand to stroke Draco's hair as Draco's head come to rest on Harry's broad chest.

Neither man knew how long they stayed wrapped in each other arms but each was listening to the other. Draco heard the constant beat of Harry's heart and it gave him comfort, while Harry listened in agony as every breath Draco drew was more laboured than the last. At last, Draco raised his head. Using all the energy he had left, Draco brought his lips down on Harry's in a chaste kiss that contained a lifetime of emotion.

"I love you Harry." Draco whispered so softly Harry almost missed it. With that said, Draco's eyes closed for the last time and Harry felt Draco's skin go cold next to his own.

"I love you too Draco." Harry murmured against Draco's temple and then he let himself cry. He cried because Draco would never see his son go off to Hogwarts, because he would never see his son ride a broom or buy his first wand. He cried for Scorpius because he would never truly know the real Draco Malfoy but what made Harry cry most of all was the fact that Draco was gone and he had spent so little time with the man he loved and who loved him.

Harry stayed there with Draco wrapped in his arms until he had no tears left. Slowly and reluctantly, he detangled himself and stood up unaware of how stiff he had gotten lying there. Before turning to leave, Harry tucked the blankets under Draco's chin and straightened the long, white blond hair so that it looked like Draco could be asleep. Wiping his eyes once more, Harry left the room and headed back down the staircase towards the large sitting room he had noticed when he entered the home.

Andromeda was sitting on one of the couches and when Harry entered, she took one look at his face and rose to her feet. Walking quickly over, she gave him one of her rare hugs, holding him tight as Harry broke down once more.

"I'm sorry Harry. I'm so sorry." She sighed in his ear while rubbing circles in his back. Harry straightened up, breaking the hug with Andromeda.

"Where is Scorpius?" he asked in a shaking voice. Andromeda inclined her head towards the second couch, where Sophie the house elf sat with a little boy who was a spitting image of Draco. Trembling, Harry walked forward and picked up the boy, holding him close in a hug that transferred all the love he had for Draco into a new love for Scorius.

Standing there in sitting room, Scorpius held close to him, Harry couldn't help but feel that this was finally what he needed to help him forget the War and he couldn't help but feel that everything was going to be all right. That he was going to be alright.

Four days after Draco's death, Harry stood in the same bedroom in which Draco had died. He looked in the mirror, straightening his tie and flattening his hair before he turned and walked out of the room. Meeting Ron and Hermione in the entrance hall, Harry took Scorpius from Hermione and the three friends headed towards the large willow tree that over looked the pond on the estate. This was where Draco was to be buried shortly and tomorrow, Harry would be moving into the house so that Scorpius could grow up in a place that his father had loved.

The service was beautifully done, with only a small number of people present. After Draco was placed in the large green and silver marble tomb, and the rest of the guests had made their way back to the house, only Harry remained behind to say goodbye by himself.

"Four days ago I was miserable Draco. I never thought I would have a purpose outside of being the Chosen One but now, thanks to you, I have a new purpose, a new role to fulfill in life." Harry paused, drawing a deep breath and exhaling before he continued, "You can rest now Draco. Scorpius will be fine, and so will I. I promise you. I love you Draco."

And with that, Harry turned away and slowly made his way back to the house with the knowledge that love was indeed stronger than death.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!   
> Kudos and Reviews are much appreciated, and will maybe convince me to post something that doesn't involve a character death.


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